Answer:
It is a symphony of noise, It can produce both grief and joys, It is inspiring and grand, Made by a person or a band.
Brothers and sisters I have none but this man's father is my father's son. Who is the man?
What is taken before you can get it?
Tickle with your fingers and a song it will sing. Be careful, though, you may break a string. What is it?
Made of ten but two we make, When assembled others quake, Five apart and we are weak, Five together havoc wreak. What are we?
It flows out of the soil, It burns you if it boils, And holds us in its coils, More valuable than gold, As black as it is old.